


What a Little Moonlight Can Do

by nonky



Category: Being Human (US/Canada)
Genre: Gen, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 02:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17889764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonky/pseuds/nonky
Summary: Prompted by joyyjpg  at LJ: Rebecca, what awful things happen in the dark





	What a Little Moonlight Can Do

One day, she was told very sincerely, she will be able to go back to work during normal hours. She will mix with the humans, hunt a little, get laid, have a bank account and a credit rating again. One day, her small scale human life would come back to her; a little sweetening to her permanent losses.

Marcus had set things out for her rather gently. He had told her all the rules they used to stay safe and hidden. Then, confidentially, he had leaned in close and said, "But maybe you'll be part of the first generation that doesn't have to worry about that."

Rebecca's questions had been mostly ignored, though not unkindly. Sometimes she got the feeling the answers she didn't get were more to her benefit than the ones freely given. None of it felt like a lie, but none of it was ever all of the truth.

And there was another kind of life because Aidan was living it - far away from the rest of them. It fascinated her, that other way of living. He had to need the blood just as much, and she was living (undead) proof he was no better than the rest of them.

She did busy work for Marcus during the day, and roamed at night. They all seemed to be programmed for restlessness, but during the day it was safer to hide. After dark, things happened.

Her dim sense of her own control was little comfort. She had choices but they were all pretty crappy. It was lonely, it was hungry, and if that changed it would only be counted by the decade or more.

Rebecca turned a corner sharply, dancing though trash and swinging her arms carelessly. She had fed, didn't need to again, but if she happened to trip over some poor indigent whose life was a constant misery . . . well, she could relate.

Someone grabbed her and threw her roughly against a fence. She could feel the wire catch on her gauzy shirt. Marcus had given her a ride to buy new clothes, and had let her buy nothing but slut-wear. He liked looking at her plunging necklines, so she worked with that as much as she could.

The leer pointed at her now wasn't confined by old world manners like Marcus' stares. A knife settled against her belly and she pushed down a giggle.

"If it was that easy," she told the man easily, "I'd have asked for you by name."

Her shirt ripped more as she shoved him back, getting a shallow wound above the waist of her jeans. The man was filthy and his eyes were glazed. He was dressed in many dingy layers of dirty clothes. She could drink him and be tripping for a solid weekend.

Her highs from feeding had gone away completely, and she'd thought about alternatives. More didn't do it, and she couldn't metabolize drugs herself. Sex wasn't even the same as it was before, though that could be because Aidan had given her something of a complex about his feelings for her.

"Why is it that all the guys want to kill me, but none of them will take me out to dinner like a lady," she asked, lilting her tone drunkenly.

The intoxicated man had stumbled back to catch himself on a fire escape. She ambled over slowly, letting him get a little knife waving out of his system.

"I'll cut you," he snarled, as if she hadn't known that.

"I do worse," Rebecca replied sadly. "And harder, for longer. I could keep killing you forever."

He dropped the knife and fell down, scrambling in a crab walk to get away. She leaned over and smiled at the glorious scent of good, nourishing blood underneath all that dirty skin. She had forever, so it was worth a try.

He only screamed for a minute, and his hunting ground was secluded and a good choice. Maybe she would make it her regular stop. No one came to interfere, and no one seemed to care what she was doing.

Rebecca sprawled back in the alley, kicking the junkie away. She cared. She imagined her old life where she would have treated this guy and tried to get him into a treatment program. She imagined Aidan's disgust, Bishop's pride, Marcus' arousal. She wiped her hands on her jeans and stood up slowly.

As she walked away, the man sat up weakly and started to sob.


End file.
